Bathtub
by Antiform
Summary: Raijin finds himself in an impossible situation. Defies gravity.
1. Death Defying!

Patrol. It was the lifeblood of the Disciplinary Committee. They patrolled the halls of Balamb Garden proudly, keeping the place safe. At least, in theory. They had their own ways of dealing with problem students, which, in a way, made it slightly scarier. But if those punks were scared of a little discipline, they weren't fit to study at Balamb Garden.

On this particular morning, the three members were in the Quad, supervising the students congregating there. It was during a particularly peaceful moment that Raijin decided to open his big mouth.

"Hey guys. Tonight, think you could keep it down, ya know? I need my beauty sleep, ya know?"

If Fuujin's eye weren't already red, it would have burned with anger. Instead, Raijin could feel the heat radiating from her death glare. _If looks could kill_ was right.

"RAGE," she said, kicking him square in the crotch. The burly member of the Posse stumbled back a few steps, writhing in pain and holding his package. Too bad for him, he was one step from the edge.

He tumbled down, lucky the Garden was parked or else he would have been chopped to pieces on the Garden's halo thing, which was hovering harmlessly above the structure at the time.

By the time he reached the ground, he'd gained momentum. He was beyond the normal speed for _anything_ free falling, but Raijin didn't realize this. His life was flashing before his eyes, one image at a time, he saw himself facing Fuujin's wrath again and again. _I gotta stop pissing her off, ya know,_ he thought, just before hitting the ground with a BANG.

Only the pain didn't go away. Instead, he felt the ground giving way. He kept going, afraid that he wouldn't stop until he hit the center of the planet. But when the center came and went, he realized that his earlier thought was too soon and had probably jinxed him.

Finally, he broke free, hitting something ceramic feet first, breaking a Raijin-sized hole in it. Now, in addition to the dirt and stone from the planet's many layers, he was muddy. It was a bathtub, he realized, just as he heard a girl screaming at the top of her lungs, shrill and high pitched.

Opening his eyes, he saw the girl's face. Raijin's a man, ya know, and men tend to _look_ when a naked girl stands in front of them.

That was when he realized that this was indeed not a girl. The naked man was still screaming like a girl, his long hair slicked by the water behind his back. He was holding his chest like he actually had breasts to hide. The water was draining through the hole, perhaps back out the hole he'd made on the other side. Assuming this wasn't just some post-death dream and there wasn't really any holes for the water to go in or out of.

The screaming finally alerted someone in another room because suddenly the bathroom door was on the ground, two other men rushing in. _The she-male's lovers?_ he thought with a silent chuckle as the larger of the two newcomers pulled him up to his feet and stared him down.

"He means, 'Where did you come from?'" said the shorter, darker man over the still screaming lady-man.


	2. PUBERTY BOY, YA KNOW?

The Presidential Palace had several bathrooms, Raijin found, when an assistant-something lead him to one to wash the grime of layer upon layer of earth from him. Not to mention the dirty bathwater he'd been hit with upon re-entry. Or re-exit, as it were.

Once as clean as he could possibly get, all things considered, he dressed in the clothes provided for him as he wondered where he'd seen them before. The entire ensemble seemed made for someone slightly taller, but Raijin didn't seem to notice. _It's not my style, ya know._

The strange men were waiting for him in a lobby of some kind when he finished. The she-man—President Laguna Loire, as he'd found out from the assistant earlier—was pacing, favoring one leg over the other. _I guess he got hurt, ya know._ The tall, burly man—Ward, he'd been told, was mute—noticed Raijin's gaze and guessed his thoughts, apparently, because the first spoken words came from the tall black man—Kiros, they'd said, was surprisingly insightful, whatever that meant. "He means, 'Laguna gets cramps when he's nervous.'"

Finally, the president stopped and turned to the young man. "Oh good, the clothes fit. Ward's the only one close to your size."

_No wonder_, Raijin thought. _I thought I'd seen them before, ya know. _They were the exact same size, style, and color as the outfit the large man was wearing already.

"I hope you don't mind we went through your things, Raijin," Laguna continued. "These guys," he said, indicating towards his friends and a few guards, "are a bit sensitive about apparent attacks."

Raijin tensed. _Great, just what I need, ya know. To be accused of an assassination attempt!_

"Oh no, don't worry! They've deemed you a non-threat. Balamb Garden is a close ally nowadays," Laguna said, a twinge of pride in his voice. "My son wouldn't let murderers stay in his Garden."

"Who?" Raijin asked abruptly, having never gotten the memo, apparently, despite the posters the Disciplinary Committee had been forced to take down. Selphie had been so enamored with Laguna Loire and found it SUPREMELY AWESOME that her BEST FRIEND was the son of the handsome president of Esthar that she'd printed off hundreds of fliers and posters using Garden Committee funds.

"My son? Oh, Squall Leonhart."

"PUBERTY BOY, YA KNOW?" Raijin replied, incorporating Seifer's nickname for their commander and Fuujin's loud voice.

At that, Laguna nearly choked, hoping that didn't mean that his _pride and joy_ was a very late bloomer.


End file.
